Houses are scary
I’ve been thinking about houses a lot. Not because I’m in the market for one. Mostly because I’m not.
It seems like marriage and houses go together for a lot of people. You get married, you invest in your first house. It has a yard. You don’t know anyone in the neighborhood yet, but you trust that one day you’ll all be over each other’s houses sipping wine and sharing cute stories about your children’s involvement in various miniature sports.
Of course, the economy has made it pretty difficult for young newlyweds to invest in much of anything. But people still make it happen. They save up and they get a house.
I grew up in suburbia. It felt normal, because I was growing up there. It took 30 minutes to drive anywhere. We shopped at the mall. There were a lot of parking lots.
I remember being dragged along on my parents’ visit to their friends in the city. It might have been Brooklyn, it might have been Manhattan. I was seven or so, and I felt immediately sorry for these grownups who did not have a house. Were they very, very poor? What was preventing them from having more than three rooms to live in? The whole thing was tragic.
Thinking back on the experience, I ask myself, “Wait, was it three rooms plus a kitchen and bathroom? Wow. That’s huge.”
I have no idea what I would do with three whole rooms plus a kitchen and a bathroom. What if it was four whole rooms? What do you even put in the fourth? Several pets? A pool table? A grand piano?
(I’m irrationally terrified of this. source)
I’m fascinated by young couples who buy a house. They seem so put-together and mature. They’re planning for the distant future. They’re factoring kids into the extra space. They’re incredibly brave.
My friends are a subway ride away. If I had to drive an hour to see them, I wonder if we’d ever make the time. Everyone is so busy, after all.
(This might be OK. No lawn. It also might cost $1 million. Hard to tell. source)
My generation gets accused of social superficiality a lot. We have hundreds and hundreds of friends on facebook, but we don’t really know any of them. We’re always texting each other, rather than talking on the phone. In the solemn, gloomy articles papers publish about us and the kids who came after us, we sound flighty, insecure, and ironically disconnected. We don’t have community the way our parents did. We’re fluttering around, unable to perch for more than a few seconds before we’re bored.
Our parents had community in large part because they had houses. They lived in neighborhoods where they talked to their neighbors. There was a sense of rootedness and commitment to an area and a lifestyle.
But I’m not willing to commit. I feel picky. I don’t trust that the people who live next door are people I’ll want to get to know. And I don’t trust facebook to sustain me socially. Maybe I just don’t trust.
For me, a house symbolizes disconnectedness, rather than the opposite. And I’m scared of that. Of living in a house full of hollowness, where the lawns that gape open between homes are like mine fields that can never be safely crossed. I’m scared of being alone.
(This is my first apartment, a studio. The kitchen isn’t visible, but, trust me, it barely existed. Honestly, it was perfectly sized for me. It was so small, I never once felt lonely in it.)
* * *
Un-roast: Today I love the way I feel when I’m out by myself in the city.
Do you have a dream house? I definitely have a dream apartment. And a dream house, too, that’s up on a hill, crammed in between other little houses. Both the apartment and the house have a ton of gigantic windows and light is constantly streaming in. I think that’s the most important thing. Also, there’s a room full of those foam chunks. Like the pit at gymnastics class, when I was little. That was awesome.
Post at Un-schooled about how trying to be exceptional can get old really fast.
Kate on January 3rd 2011 in Uncategorized
allison marie responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 2:29 pm #
I’ve been thinking about homeownership a lot lately, actually. My husband and I own a home in the suburbs and I pretty much *hate* it. I mean, I love the house because we have so many memories there, but I have the lack of public transportation, how everything looks the same, and the homogeneity in general. Plus, you have to landscape/mow and make maintenance repairs. Maybe I’m just too immature or flighty, but I definitely think when we make our next move, we’ll be going back to renting – even if it is in a house.
Christin@purplebirdblog responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 3:00 pm #
Hehehe, I immediately thought of this comic.
http://xkcd.com/150/
Kate responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 3:05 pm #
@Christin
Me too. That’s exactly what I was thinking of. You’re awesome 🙂
San D responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 4:57 pm #
Having lived in an apartment and lived in a house, I would take house any day. Not only for the available space, but more for the privacy, and the respite from a stressful life. Of course now that I am retired, with no stress, the house is a big comfort, just like a big bed in a sunny room. Renting in an apartment meant neighbors over which I had no control. For example when the man upstairs beat his wife regularly and I had to hear her hitting the wall, the best we could do was offer to pay for a plane ride for her to go home to England, which she did. I don’t hear those things in my comfortable space. We were lucky enough to design and build our own space, so those issues like lawn mowing for example, don’t exist for us. We have no front lawn for example. Also, I am not of the mind to lease a car or rent a space. The monthly payment in either case means I own something in the end. Of course this all didn’t happen when we were young. Our first apartment over the poodle parlour was certainly interesting, as was the apartment in a large city with a murderer living across the street, and the detectives watching my husband as a suspect instead.
Loraine Elyse DeBelser responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 5:53 pm #
Where you live, and what you live in, are what you make it. As a married person, I lived in a tiny house, in a flat in an office building we renovated, in a tiny caretakers space above a theater (with two small children and no kitchen or laundry), house-sat in a huge house we designed for someone else, and then in a ranch-house in orinda-suburbia, and now on a real ranch. They were all wonderful in their own way. If you are living there with the people who make you happy, it is the best place on earth. Fear not the form, save your concern for the substance.
PS, your second housing example above is the one I really want….
Kate responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 8:53 pm #
@San D
Seriously? A murderer? That’s kind of incredible. I want to hear that whole story. Who did he kill?
San D responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 10:06 pm #
Yup, a murderer for real. Apparently he, the son of the fire department chief, and whose wife worked as a police dispatcher, monitored when little old ladies were on vacation. He would go into their houses and steal antiques. One little old lady was home and resisted and he killed her, put her in her bathtub, and tried to burn the place down. In the meantime, he wasn’t suspected because of his father and wife’s connection to the town. Meanwhile my husband, who rode a motorcycle at the time, and had longish hair, was of course the obvious suspect. I noticed that someone was “staked out” in front of our house monitoring our coming and goings. Everytime I would try to go over the the car and say something like “why are you staring out us”, he would drive away. We eventually called the police who confirmed we were being watched. My husband had the police call his job to confirm that he was actually a law abiding hard working citizen and at work at the time of the murder. Eventually their suspicions were directed to the person who lived directly across the street, who by all accounts had a really great antique collection, and everything played out and unraveled. Just like in the movies.
Valerie responded on 03 Jan 2011 at 11:40 pm #
I lived in an apartment for 10 years; moving from apartment to apartment due to every life change possible. I dreamt of houses. I wanted houses. And now I have one.
Well, kind of…it’s my boyfriend’s house, but we’re staying together long term. (You know, a forever sort of thing.)
I love the house. We’ve been painting it ourselves as we deemed the previous interior paint hideous. We live in a fantastic neighborhood that is great for children, if we so choose. The neighborhood is its own little neighborhood with its own little market, filled with nice people that are helpful and polite whose children aren’t horrible little monsters.
The things I’ll love most about living in the house? No landlords, no people dropping by just to check on things and tsk-tsking you for the dirty dishes in the sink, no calling other people to repair simple things that could easily be done on your own, no asking people if I can have a pet, no fix it crews that are left unattended in my apartment who think nothing of leaving my door WIDE open in a bad neighborhood, no bad neighborhood, no gangs, no creeps following me home from work, no people overdosing in the stairwell, no exit lights knocked out so that druggies can steal the lithium, no property owners going into foreclosure and not bothering to tell the renters OR the property management company they hired (which is what just happened to us and why we decided we were fed up with renting).
In fact, those apartments and neighborhoods were where I was most disconnected to the point where, now, it’s difficult for me to want to connect with people. I feel more connected in this little neighborhood (which is kind of like our own town) on the edge of the city than I did when I lived in a bigger city.
Not-of-The-Cake-Kate responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 1:22 am #
Maybe it’s just me, but I find the idea of living in a house totally abhorrent. Maybe it’s because I grew up in suburbia. Maybe it’s because I don’t want kids and the idea of being surrounded by families makes me want to jump in front of a bus.
I love my apartment. When something breaks, I don’t have to think “Damn, there goes my savings account.” I think “Oh, I’ll call the rental office and it’ll be fixed within 2 days.” My complex has a little green area where people walk their dogs and I know every dog owner that lives in this complex (including the woman who lives in a studio with her St. Bernard!) And my dogs get to interact with people and other dogs instead of spending their entire lives barking behind a fence. I can walk to anything I need, or ride my bike. I’d never trade this for a lawn I had to mow.
Maggie responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 1:55 am #
That’s not really a fair assessment, Not-of-The-Cake-Kate. I live in a house that I own and I walk my dog all over the neighborhood every day. I don’t mow the lawn at all, I just got a friend to help plant it with native, sustainable groundcover when I moved in. I also live in a really great, walkable neighborhood about a two miles from my downtown office, full of shops and bars and friendly people, both with and without kids.
Also, as someone without kids (who still considers herself part of a loving, amazing “family,” btw) I don’t mind them being around.
Not saying it’s the right choice for you, but there’s more than one way to live in a house.
camelshoes responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 7:09 am #
I’m definitely someone who wants a house of my own someday. The idea of being in an apartment with no yard is my idea of horrid. And the thought of never being able to be alone scares me!
I imagine that preferences do stem from what you experienced as a child and your personality. I grew up in the country, and I’ve lived in the city (Melbourne, Australia – a small city when compared to NYC). I am an introvert and I enjoy nights in more often than I go out. I love it when I visit my parent’s house in the country – it’s so deliciously dark (the stars are amazing), it’s so fabulously quiet, the air is fresh and clean and you can find a place to be completely by yourself quiet easily.
At the moment, I’m renting a house in suburbia with my boyfriend (Perth, Australia). It is a cute old 2 bedroom house with a little backyard. (Main bedroom, spare bedroom/study, lounge, kitchen, bathroom, laundry room, little back area where we keep a lawnmower and a few other bits and pieces – we don’t have a garden shed). I love that I can have a little veggie patch and grow flowers in my garden. I can do laundry and hang the clothes out on the line to dry in the sun. The neighbours are friendly and we all help each other out if needed, but otherwise we don’t really see/hear them. There are good bike paths and parks nearby and it’s a short drive to the riverside or beach, and a 30 minute bus trip to the CBD (downtown). Obviously, Perth is not really that comparable to NYC either!
My issue really is considering renting vs buying. I really feel frustrated renting that I can’t hang pictures, paint, change our hideous blue/green marbled plasticy bathroom benchtop, put in a bathtub, install air conditioning, get a pet without asking for permission or being afraid that the rent will be increased if things were upgraded, etc etc. But as I’m still finishing my university course, I’m quite a few years off being able to afford any type of housing in suburbs I’d like to live in.
Kate responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 9:33 am #
@San D
Amazing story. You should submit it somewhere. “My husband: the suspected murderer.” Thanks for sharing it!!
Kate responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 9:38 am #
@Camelshoes
I’m blown away by the idea of putting laundry on a line. That actually sounds kind of sweet, in a pioneer woman way, if very time consuming.
I like your case for buying, though.
Right now, I don’t feel like decorating anything, so I don’t mind renting, since I have less responsibility. Also, it’s nice to have the super around (now that we have a nice super, rather than an incredibly creepy one), for when the shower leaks or something.
But I imagine having kids can really, really complicate living in an apartment, and I don’t doubt that I’ll have to switch over to houses some day. At that point, I will learn to love them, I’m sure. Or just try very hard to find one with enough big windows and little lawn to make it lovable.
Emily responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 12:43 pm #
House or apartment? These are the options we are given? That’s why I’m planning to buy land with friends and reclaim village life. Why live in suburban isolation or far from nature in a city when you could gather a bunch of your favorite people and live someplace beautiful? There are communities like this all over that people just don’t know about.. it’s kind of sad how limited the options are that society presents us with.
Emily responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 1:18 pm #
For more on intentional communities (like described above) check out these sites.. or google intentional communities.
http://icdb.org/
http://www.ic.org/
http://www.commonfire.org/community/index.html
OrigamiB responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 2:58 pm #
I’ve been an apartment dweller and am currently a mortgage paying suburbanite. There are pros and cons to both, but in hindsight…the apartment with the very amorous and ahem..volume control challenged…couple wasn’t a treat to live in while I was awake with my new baby and post partum depression. That was also the apt. below and one door down from the passed out guy who’s washing machine overflowed for hours and filled my floors with 3 inches of water (literally) wasn’t terrific. At least our ceiling didn’t collapse like the people next door’s did. The apartment where the gay couple who lived above us and had, (reminiscent of a sad version of La Cage Aux Folles) random, midnight, nude screaming matches in the street below our windows wasn’t that much fun. But their screaming matches were better entertainment than the monstrous mystery flea infestation we had to live through from the two very large English sheepdogs that they had hidden in their apartment (no pets allowed). I guess they walked them in the dead of night, after the screaming matches. Never heard a bark or saw a dog. We only found out that they had dogs when they were moving out–four hideously itchy months of fleas and useless landlord supplied fumigations later. Hmmm…and then there was the apartment with the heroin dealer who lived across the hall and all his late night customers coming and going…and the family who loved rap and had no idea how to lower the bass on their stereo downstairs so that my dishes wouldn’t dance to the beat. Yeah, home ownership, hands down.
jstolk responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 5:15 pm #
I always wanted to live in a tree. Not like a tree house, but inside a hollowed out tree. I love living in an apartment, too me it says “young and worry free.” Houses always seemed so “grown up” to me and it baffles me when I meet people my age (or even younger) who own or are looking to buy a house.
B1 responded on 04 Jan 2011 at 5:47 pm #
Funny to be reading this now as I have been thinking more about purchasing a house now. For years I’ve been told that I’ve been throwing my money away by renting and that I should buy a house. But with credit issues and such, I did not feel comfortable even applying for a loan to consider a house. So I continued to rent. But now that I’ve cleaned up my credit and I’m frustrated with the place I live in now due to the lack of storage or closet space, I’m looking to take advantage of the economy since I have a good job, rates are still low, and there are lots of foreclosures and such on the market.
But what has really got me thinking about it was thinking about the word ‘home’. As a child, home was where my parents chose and as an adult, I’m not really sure that I’ve ever really had a ‘home’ except to call it a place where I dwelled. I currently consider myself ‘homeless’ even though I have a place to live. In thinking about ‘home’, I had to think about what was it that made a house a home. I pondered this at great lengths. What I came up with was this.
Home is the place you pour yourself into. You don’t have to be married to do this, but you have to WANT to pour yourself into the place in the first place. Home is your nest, the place you feel safe, the place you can be you, the place that says, ‘this is me’ when people walk in.
In renting, I am running into walls that some have spoken of before me here and I’m now finding them frustrating. I now want a place that I can consider and really call ‘home’, that I can really call my own and for me that means purchasing a house. For me that means finding a place that I want to pour myself into so that when I come home from work it’s not just a place where I dwell, but a place where I can live.
Emmi responded on 15 Mar 2011 at 3:30 pm #
Houses terrify me, with their expense. Not just to cost of buying one (especially finding out that it ain’t worth a quarter of that a couple years later) but the possible expenses down the road. Lawnmowers! Septic tanks! Pests! Also it doesn’t help that my parents are borderline hoarders with a metric fuckton of crap filling the basement. I do not need all that STUFF. Our 670 square feet are more than enough for me 🙂